


Song Writing

by sagscrib



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Found Families, Gen, Guitars, Poetry, daiya is supportive of his littlest bro, this is mostly about daiya and michi being Family, yeah i write a lot of takemichi found family content. if not me then who
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:08:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26476981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagscrib/pseuds/sagscrib
Summary: One would assume that if you're good at writing poetry and you're good at playing an instrument, song writing would come easy. This is not the case- especially not for Takemichi.
Relationships: Oowada Daiya & Yukimaru Takemichi
Kudos: 2





	Song Writing

“Don’t you ever play happy stuff?”

Takemichi jumped in his seat. He hadn’t heard Daiya approach until his voice was right behind him. He had been noodling away at the acoustic guitar the Oowadas let him use, a chord chart and the journal he wrote his poetry in lying on the couch beside him. Feeling his face start to flush, he quickly snapped the latter shut.

“I could play plenty’a happy shit,” he mumbled defensively.

Daiya cocked an eyebrow as he walked around the side of the couch and sat down heavily. “Yeah? Why doncha, then?”

He frowned. The real answer was that he  _ wasn’t _ happy- it was hard to find inspiration where there was none or write about experiences he can’t really remember having. The sad poems always came easier, spilling out of his mouth before he thought to stop them, sweating from his pores.

He shook his head, trying to clear it. There was no need to get fuckin’  _ flowery _ about his mental state. Bikers don’t talk about their feelings- especially not ones that were bodyguards, and  _ especially _ not to their bosses. Especially not when their gang was  _ The Crazy Diamonds. _

(Even in his mind, he held the words with reverence, like they were made of gold, or something finer, something without a name, shining and divine- ambrosia, ichor, perhaps. As far as he was concerned, the world revolved around them, around the Oowadas- they were the sun, and he considered himself lucky to be some chunk of space debris in the same galaxy.)

He blinked, registering Daiya’s hand waving in front of his face. “Hey, Earth to Michi. You still in there, kiddo?”

“Yeah. Sorry,” he apologized. “Spaced for a sec. Whadja say?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he said, leaning forward to ruffle Takemichi’s hair with a crooked grin. “What’re ya workin’ on now?”

“Nothin’,” Takemichi mumbled, blushing again, staring at the carpet.

“Naw, c’mon, don’t be like that,” Daiya whined dramatically. “What, do you not trust your old Uncle Yaya?”

Takemichi snorted, amused. “Fine, whatever. You can read it. Don’t turn the fuckin’ page, though, or I’ll strangle you.”

He handed the notebook over, open to the words he had been staring at shortly before.

(Because he knew, even as he sat anxiously bouncing his leg, his palms growing slightly cold and sweaty, that he did trust him. More than just about anyone. More than himself, certainly. He’d willingly put his life in his hands, knowing that Daiya wouldn’t let it go to waste. He all but had at this point, really.)

“Hey, whatcha smilin’ about over there?” he asked, nudging the guitar with his foot so he could rest his legs on Takemichi’s lap. Takemichi rolled his eyes and carefully set the instrument on the ground, leaning it against the armrest.

“Just read, you bastard. I ain’t got all day to wait for you to sound it out.” They didn’t talk about their feelings- even the happy ones- until they were too pent up from shoving them down all the time. It was how they worked, and Takemichi sure as hell wasn’t going to put what they had going in jeopardy by questioning it now.

Daiya huffed, but turned back to the page to scan the last few lines.

“It’s good, kid,” he praised, handing the spiral-bound and well loved notebook back. “Depressing as hell, but good. I liked the bit about the flowers.”

Of course. The lines about the fields of lavender and deep purple carnations, spreading endlessly, enveloping the earth. Their beauty, their strength, all but ruined by one yellow rose, growing where it wasn’t meant to be, but flourishing anyway.

Takemichi rubbed at the corner of the frayed cover- an anxious habit he picked up when he first started writing long, long ago, and never saw a reason to put down. “Yeah. It’s alright, I’ve just got a problem makin’ it sound lyrical. Not my usual style.”

Daiya nodded. Takemichi had talked to him about his poetry a few times- far, far more than anyone else- and had made a clear effort to try and understand and remember when Takemichi spoke.

It meant a lot to him- as was common with the things the Oowadas did for him, no matter how small.

“You’re doin’ good, though. Some’a those chords are hard to get just right.” Daiya peered over at the sheet, looking pointedly at G#m7 and wrinkling his nose.

Takemichi looked to the side, trying to hide his grin. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

Daiya stood up and stretched. “You’ve been at this for, like, an hour now. Me ‘n Mondo are goin’ to get somethin’ to eat, why dontcha come with?”

“That an invitation as my friend, or an order as my boss?” Takemichi asked, half-joking, as he stood.

“It’s family bonding. C’mon, grab yer keys.”

Takemichi tried once again to hide his widening grin as he pulled his ring of keys from the bag at his feet and moved to put the guitar on its stand.

**Author's Note:**

> Purple carnations- leadership, stability  
> Lavender- devotion (and, in my writing, m/m love, as in lavender lads)  
> Yellow rose- friendship/ platonic love
> 
> this was supposed to be a small part of a larger fic im working on, but i wanted to flesh it out more. lol whoops


End file.
